Monday, October 29, 2007

Ghost Robot!

Flee! Flee before the ectotronic terror of... The Phantomaton 2000!

Is it the ghost of a robot who died, or a robot made out of ghosts? What is its nefarious purpose? Why is it looking at your Wii like that?

Some people say the Ghost Robot doesn't exist, that it is the fever-dream of technofetishphobiacs and crack-addled fishwives. But we know better, oh yes, we do.


edit: more shocking evidence here.

another edit: footage of the Ghost Robot in motion! so, now we know it's not just a pie plate on a string.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Two Matters of Grave Importance

Pal and one-time collaborator, Chris Radtke, writes to ask if I might turn the mighty tide that is the Beeswax audience towards a vital debate raging on his website: Who would win in a fight, a minotaur with a trident or a centaur with a crossbow?

What makes this different from other nerd fights circulating the internet is the caliber of celebrity judges. George Clooney? Paul Reubens? Jennifer Love Hewitt? Ozzie? Yes, all these and more. My favorite may be unflapped Tiger Woods, who responds as though it was the most normal, even routine, question in the world.

Okay, now, the subject of this debate is as close as I'm going to get to an appropriate segue-way for a topic that has been weighing heavily on me these last few days. Bear with me a moment, will you? I'm not shy about letting my geek flag fly, right? You've seen me draw superheroes in the past, and you know I'll do it again. But before I was a comics geek, I was a role-playing geek. And any role-playing geek my age was weened on the polyhedral teat of Dungeons & Dragons. It's not a system I remember fondly. In fact, I hold D&D in the kind of disdain you can only summon for a childhood love outgrown: the rules are sloppy; the random attribute generation means either lopsided characters or cheating; the emphasis on walking through rooms killing monsters and looting their bodies is narratively impoverished; and, worst of all, the untextured high-fantasy aesthetic is just plain puerile and annoying. And, goldang it, why all the dice? Build a game on a pair of ten-sided percentile dice and be done with it.

So why do I keep daydreaming about this?

What's even weirder is that I don't even want to play. I just want to read the new Player's Handbook and roll up a few characters. What the hell is wrong with me?

Sunday, October 21, 2007

December, 1997, pt. 1

Here's some images from one of my favorite old sketchbooks.

My first year of grad school, I filled a pocket-sized sketchbook during a ten day Christmas vacation.

I drew the first page while waiting to catch the bus to Virginia, and drew last on the bus ride back.

Not only can I chart where I was during the each section of the sketchbooks (bus station, bus, girlfriend's, Dad's, grandparents, bus), but what I was thinking about.

The preceding pages were from the Girlfriend stage of the tour. The psychologically astute among you may to pick up on a certain ambivalence I had regarding the relationship.

Now I'm at my Dad's place.

This sort of relentless resposnive doodling isn't easy. It precludes all sorts of other activities, like, say, socializing because you're always nose-deep in your sketchbook.

But dang, if it doesn't keep the artistic chops up.

This sketchbook represents me at my sketching peak, but I kept the habit up pretty well for years... until I moved to Memphis. I've tried, but there's something about Memphis that I just find singularly uninspiring.

More to come!

Monday, October 01, 2007


I decided, back at the beginning of the semester, to draw an animal everyday. This lasted all of three days. This is the third one.

Jellyfish, jellyfish, jellyfish... do I have any interesting stories or associations with jellyfish? Uhm... I ate one once. Bought it in Chinatown, and took it as a gift to my brother in Maine. We dumped it in some soup. It pretty much dissolved and slightly thickened the broth. No particular flavor to report.

I used to wondered where jellyfish ranked on the karmic ladder. I figure it's either right at the bottom (they pretty much just float around all day, just kinda accepting whatever comes to them), or right at the top (they pretty much just float around all day, just kinda accepting whatever comes to them). Is there any chance that jellyfish are the physical manifestation of those who have achieved Nirvana?

But now I see that that's a pretty foolish notion. The dwellers of Nirvana are clearly Tardigrades. Which is a nice thought, because there's a lot of them.